I had just gotten home, trying to unwind from a trying day, when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to two men. One was tall, suave and polished. He was dressed to perfection, creased and pressed. Not a hair out of place, not a move that wasn't smooth and efficient. He didn't do a thing for me. He was too perfect, too practiced, and too straight. But the other guy, well, he gave me an immediate temperature rise, plus a rise in other areas. He was the opposite of his cohort. He had dark hair and was tall, about six-four and muscular, hulking with muscles. He wore a wrinkled jacket over a wrinkled shirt with a crooked and loose tie. His shoes were scuffed and his pants were lived in. His hair was mussed as if he constantly ran his fingers through it. He had a dark, five o'clock shadow and the most intense blue eyes I had ever seen. He exuded a macho, masculine air that just about had me on my knees. I was taking in the whole package when I noticed that he dressed definitely to the left, heavily to the left. My mouth began to water. Then macho, hunky perfection cleared his throat and the two men flashed me their badges. It couldn't have been better choreographed. If I had had a better day, I would have laughed.
"Are you Zachary Phillips?" from Mr. Macho.
"Yes."
"This is Detective Martin Anderson and I am Detective Jason Bailey. We need to ask you some questions."
"Come in."
I led the way to my living room, choosing the plush armchair by the fireplace rather than deal with one of them by my side on the couch. I felt a bit of an adrenaline rush, more excitement than fear at the whole situation. I wondered what this could possibly be about.
"Mr. Philips, do you know a Matthew Jamison?"
Matthew, what did he have to do with anything? "Yes. We were... together until eighteen months ago." At my hesitation over the nature of our relationship, hunky Jason raised his eyebrows and gave me a disapproving look. I really wanted to slap it off his face.
"When was the last time you saw him?" this coming from dapper Martin.
"Again, eighteen months ago."
"What was the nature of your relationship?" This was from not so hunky Jason.
"We were lovers for seven years. Eighteen months ago he came home and told me it was over. He packed his bags and was gone. I haven't seen him since. Why? Has he done something wrong?"
Martin looked significantly at Jason and then turned to me. "Matthew Jamison is dead. He was murdered last night in his home."
Shock overcame me. And to my surprise, tears sprang to my eyes and I had to blink repeatedly to clear them. I slumped back in my chair, defeated. "How? Why?" My voice cracked over the words.
"He was stabbed. As to why, we were hoping you could help us out. There was a letter in his pocket written by you and dated just a few weeks ago." Jason looked suspiciously at me as he said it. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. They thought I was involved. I shook my head, trying to clear it from shock, from anger, and surprisingly from hurt. It hurt that he thought so little of me, considering how well, even though it was in a sexist way, I had regarded him.
"I wrote that letter to him and mailed it to the last address I had for him. I usually receive them back as 'address unknown.'"
"Why were you writing him?" His attitude was starting to get on my nerves. So I snapped back.
"You must have read it. It should be obvious. I wanted to know what went wrong, why he left when things had been so good. I wanted an explanation. I just wanted a minute of his time. I wanted an answer and some peace." My explanation was rambling, but it was the truth. We had made love the night before he left, moaning each other's name. We held each other through the night, just like always. Then the next day he was gone with no explanation. It still hurt.
Perhaps sensing my pain, Jason's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, but the nature of the letter was a lead we needed to follow up on."
I nodded at him, realizing that the macho man also had a soft, compassionate side. "I understand. I really want you to find out who did this. No, I'm sorry. You both are just doing your job. How can I help?"
Martin took over, perhaps this was a good cop-bad cop routine and Jason had softened me up. It didn't upset me; I really did want to help. "Did you have any idea about his finances?"
"No. We met in college. I was a freshman and he was a graduate teacher of my beginning History class. Within two days after the term was over, we were together. He took care of finances while I was still in school but he required that we keep our paychecks separate once I graduated and started working. He left just a few years after I graduated. So, no, I don't know what his finances were like."
Jason asked. "Did you know if he was seeing anyone recently?"
I got annoyed. "I already told you I haven't seen or heard from him in over a year. I wouldn't know if he had gone bald or had a million tattoos. I don't know."
Martin stood up and indicated to Jason that they should go. They apologized for taking up my time. Call us if you think of anything. And then they were gone. Once the door was shut, my heart started to slow. I had been revved up; high energy from the moment Jason took my hand to shake it. I was sad about Matthew, but somehow I was just numb about it. There were still so many unanswered questions. I decided to forget dinner and just go to bed. My first dreamy wisp was of a dark haired detective with really strong hands.
**
When we left Zack's home, I felt bad. I know I treated him poorly and I don't know why. But there was something strange about the whole situation; something put me on edge about him. Not that I believed he stabbed his ex-lover in the back. I didn't. He wasn't guilty. But I still hounded him with my questions, forcing him to lose control of his emotions. I had noticed how he checked me out, looking at me and obviously appreciating what he saw. It was flattering. With Martin as a partner, usually I couldn't get the time of day. But he looked at me with hunger, and I could feel that hunger. To be truthful, it freaked me out a little. So I struck out to keep him away. I felt guilty and I don't know why. Him checking me out didn't really bother me. Like I said, it was flattering. But when he shook my hand, there was a spark of something that really had me nervous. If I didn't know better, it was awareness. Human beings are basically animals with pheromones and instincts just as simple and base as any other animal. What I felt with that simple gesture was extremely base and had me shaking my head.
Martin and I finished up a few paperwork trails then called it a day. Martin was going home to his doting and devoted wife and me to my empty house. I should probably do laundry, but I just didn't feel like it. I was still a little edgy from that interview today. So I stripped down and put on a pair of briefs before going into my office/gym and working out. I keep a set of free weights and a treadmill there. I usually do sets and then run, but today, I wanted the mindlessness of running. So I got on the treadmill and set a grueling program of hills and terrain changes to keep me on my toes. I ran for over thirty minutes, sweating profusely into my eyes and blanking my brain of everything but the burn of exertion. When the program stopped, I walked for ten minutes, grateful that my mind had cleared and I could focus again on something other than Zack. When I had cooled down, I walked into my bathroom and stripped off my soaked briefs before climbing into the shower. I set the water to pulsate against my neck and back. I prefer cooler showers, but now I wanted scalding hot, to relax and soothe. After ten minutes I crawled out from under the spray and flopped down in bed facedown and went straight to sleep. I awoke several hours later, sweaty and tangled in sheets, still dripping from my wet dream and even more nervous than before. The main attraction had been Zack and what he did to me with his tongue. I was shaking from the memories of the dream. I was still hot and hard, aching in my erect state. I took hold of my shaft and thought about the last woman I slept with, of her body surrounding me, of her nipples beading on my tongue as I suckled them while thrusting heavily into her. My fist was pumping my shaft in a heady rhythm when I realized the last woman I slept with was my ex-wife, not really something I wanted to remember. The woman beneath me in my mind was replaced with a man. He had hair on his chest and it rubbed against my cheek as I took his nipple in my mouth while I thrust hard into his tight ass. I tried to pull away from the image, but it was too late. I was gasping and spurting before I could make my fantasy change.
I got up and took a cool shower, washing away the remains of two heavy orgasms. I stepped out of the shower and decided that it was the perfect time to do laundry. I started and washed load after load. I lifted the free weights I had ignored earlier, doing a punishing amount of sets. Then I cleaned my kitchen and bathroom. I even vacuumed. It was going to be a long night.
**
I was rushing to get ready for work. I had overslept. I never do that. I gathered my papers and disks into my briefcase and grabbed my jacket and keys, preparing to run out the door. I had the key in the lock when I remembered the one disk I left in my computer. I pulled the key out and ran towards the house, still disoriented and distracted from a night of hot dreams involving Detective Jason and his big, strong hands. I haven't had a wet dream since I was fourteen, but I had three last night. Thankfully, I probably wouldn't see him again and could put that intense attraction and recognition I felt behind me. I got to the front door, still trying to shake my head to clear it. Then the car exploded, propelling me into my living room.
Within ten minutes, my yard was filled with fire trucks and an aid car as well as cops galore. The paramedic had bandaged my head where I had hit against the doorknob. They were checking me out for other injuries when Detectives Jason and Martin arrived. They both walked up to me. The usual belligerent swagger gone from Jason's walk, and his face, he actually looked concerned. Martin knelt by me.
"Are you okay?"
"Sure Martin, every day is a bomb filled joy at my house."
"All right, so it was a pretty stupid question. But seriously, are you badly injured?"
"No."
Jason piped up. "When was the last time you drove your car?"
"When I got home last night, just a few minutes before the two of you showed up."
"Did you see or hear anyone last night?"
"No. I didn't really sleep well last night, but I didn't hear anything."
Martin joined back. "I'm sorry we brought such sad news last night."
"It's okay. I'm glad I didn't find out about it later, after the funeral."
Jason looked pensive, but he didn't stop staring at me. It's strange, but I felt as if he were making sure I was okay. His gaze and demeanor were almost protective. This is too weird. I stood up, against the wishes of the paramedic and only swayed for a few seconds. Then Jason grabbed my arm to steady me, causing me to feel dizzy again. It felt like his touch sent electricity through me. This is not good. I didn't even feel half this much with Matthew. This could be trouble. Then the bomb squad came up and confirmed that there was indeed evidence of a bomb. Someone had set it up. Jason looked at me and told me that I was leaving. He told me to pack a bag or two of clothes. When I asked how long I would be gone, he told me until they caught who bombed my car. So I went inside with Martin and packed a couple of bags. I grabbed my laptop and enough work to keep me busy. Martin helped me carry it out to their car and I crawled in back, trying to calm down now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
Jason and Martin drove me to a house a few miles away. I got out, not really paying attention to what was going on around me. I felt really disoriented and disconnected from the world. Jason opened the door and led me down the hall to a bedroom. It was a simple room with hard wood floors, white walls, a big bed and soft bedding. It was inviting and tempted me. I sat down on the bed and Martin suggested I take a nap. I hated feeling like this, but I needed the time to regroup. I lay back and was out. I only vaguely remember someone laying a blanket over me.
**
I found myself concerned over Zack. All I could think about from the moment the call about the car bomb came in was to make sure he was okay. I finally took a deep breath once I saw him and knew he would be okay. He looked pale and had dropped off to sleep so quickly. But it was probably an adrenaline crash. Plus he said he hadn't slept well. I don't know why I brought him to my house. Martin gave me a couple of pointed looks but thankfully didn't mention anything. I decided to have a black and white patrol by my house and went with Martin to continue investigating. By four I had the bomb squad report: simple trigger, simple timer. Put key in lock and it started a thirty-second timer. He so easily could have died. There was nothing left of the car. That thought disturbed me. So much so that I called it an early day and headed home, just to make sure Zack didn't wake up alone and confused in a strange house. Martin dropped me off and I went inside, heading instantly down the hall to where we had left him. He was still lying there, vulnerable and innocent. I was drawn to him. I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep. I saw his eyelashes fanned on his cheeks and his eyes were moving in that fast motion of someone dreaming. For the first time I really got a good look at him. We were almost the same height, but I had at least forty pounds of muscle on him, if not more. His hair was golden. He wasn't feminine looking, but he wasn't ruggedly handsome either. For lack of a better word, he was cute. Not as in good looking, although I assume he was, but in a childish, innocent way he was cute. He had long fingers and he had a graceful look to him. I imagined him as a swimmer, lithe and sleek in the water. Then I thought about the dream last night and felt myself thickening in my pants. I looked at his chest and wondered if his chest was hairy, like the guy I thought about while jerking off. That thought disturbed me as I thickened further in my pants. I wasn't hard, but I was more than flaccid. Then I noticed Zack start to get agitated. He was thrashing in his sleep. Then he sat up and cried out.
I grabbed his shoulders to keep him from hurling himself off the bed. I noticed that he was solid, deceptively stronger than he looked. He was shaking. I found myself wrapping my arms around him, pulling him tighter so he would have an anchor to hold on to. His arms stayed at his side and I felt him swallow several times. Then he pulled away and looked at me. He was embarrassed. I didn't want him to be. We all have bad moments that we relive.
"Are you okay, Zack?"
"Yes."
"Are you hungry?"
He nodded. "What kind of pizza do you like?"
He actually laughed. "Don't you ever cook Jason?"
"Cook. No. Cook... are you crazy... Cook?"
He laughed harder. Then stood up and put on his shoes. He grabbed my arm and told me we were going to see what was available. After seeing my fridge with a six-pack and a dead lime, the pantry with a package of saltines, and a cupboard with a couple of cans of chili. He smiled at me and then laughed behind his hand. I grabbed my keys and told the smart ass that we would go grocery shopping.
The experience wasn't all that bad. He asked if I was allergic to anything and then we bought ingredients for a few basic meals, both breakfast and dinner with some simple things for him for lunch. I actually enjoyed the playful banter while we walked up and down the aisles of the grocery store. After about an hour and over $100 later, which he demanded we split, we returned home and put everything away.
"So Zack, what are you making for dinner?"
"I'm not. You are."
I sputtered for a minute or two. He was trying not to laugh again. Smart ass. "Okay fine. What am I going to cook?"
"Jambalaya. Let's get started."
Jambalaya. What the hell is jambalaya? I soon found out. I put on some rice to cook. I mixed up some cornbread and slipped it in the oven. Then he had me chopping onions and peppers then sauteing them with some olive oil and garlic. Then I threw in some chopped ham and smoked sausage. We had purchased a chunk of roast chicken and roast beef in the deli and I cubed it. When all was warm and smelling divine, he had me open a couple of cans of tomatoes and throw in some sage and cayenne pepper. All the while I was chopping, he was cleaning up around me, handing me a beer and opening a bottle of red wine. He had one glass and then poured a good cup into the mixture. Then he added a cup of barbeque sauce to it. I then added the rice and stirred. I pulled out the corn bread while he set the table. Then we sat down to eat.
My first bite I actually moaned. Then I polished my plate, practically licking it clean. I had three pieces of corn bread and went back for seconds of the jambalaya. And it all went down with a couple of beers. Zack laughed when I was done eating, smiling at me because I had eaten so much. But damn! I was a good cook.
"Okay, what am I making tomorrow?"
"I thought we would stick to pot roast or something simple."
"No, let's do French. I can cook anything now."
He laughed. I really liked it when he did that. I helped him with the dishes and we sat in front of the fire, me with my beer and he with more wine. He saw the picture of my ex-wife on the side table. He asked about her.
"We got married right out of college. I had started the force almost immediately after high school and attended at night. We were married for almost two years happily. Then one day I found a home pregnancy test while taking out the garbage. We hadn't talked about kids. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. But I waited for her to tell me. After a couple of weeks, I figured it was negative and she didn't want to worry me. Then I got a statement from Planned Parenthood. She had had an abortion. I fell out of love right then and there. I kept wondering how she could have done it without at least talking to me first? When she got home that night I hounded her about it. I kept asking why. She told me she did it because she couldn't be sure who the father was. I just packed a bag and left. The divorce was final two years ago."
"I'm sorry Jason."
"Well, what can you do?"
"At least you got an explanation."
"What do you mean?"
"Matthew and I met while he was teaching my freshman history class in college. I was attracted to him and we kept staring at each other, all the time. But we waited until the course was over. I moved in with him the day after grades were posted. Then eighteen months ago, he comes home and packs his clothes and leaves. No explanation. No apologies. Nothing."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. That's why I kept writing to him. I just wanted to know what had happened. We had gone from loving each other, together for over seven years, to gone in less than a day. I mean we had been together the night before. Nothing was different at all. Now I'll never know."
That sort of killed the conversation. The funny thing is we just sat there in silence for almost an hour. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. In fact, it was more than pleasant. After his confession about how lost he felt because of Matthew, I wanted to find the answers for him. I wanted to help. I also had to catch myself from hugging him. After a few more silent minutes he got up and went to bed. I followed a few minutes later.
I pulled off my clothes and lay down in bed. I lay in the dark and thought about the strange events of the day and my thoughts kept drifting to the man down the hall. Eventually, I fell asleep. I awoke a few hours later, sweaty and sticky from another wet dream. I couldn't go back to sleep. I was too keyed up. I slipped out of bed and put on a pair of briefs and went to my gym and did some sets followed by an hour run. Dawn was breaking as I wound down from the treadmill. But while I was cooling off I realized that all the exercise in the world wouldn't erase the images from my dream. I had been lying on my bed with Zack fucking me. And I liked it.
I heard the shower go off and knew Zack was up. I grabbed a towel out of the linen cabinet in the hall, dropped my briefs in the hamper and wrapped the towel around my waist. I headed down the hall towards the bathroom when the water stopped.
**
Jason and I had had such a pleasant evening. While shopping we laughed and joked and played around. Then I supervised while he cooked. The look of pride and wonder on his face as he ate his own creation was funny and it filled me with a good, warm feeling. Even the silence by the fire was pleasant too. Then I went to bed and had another really hot dream in which I woke up with the last of my spasms spewing cum all over my belly. What he can do with his hands in my dreams has got to stop. In my dream, he had skimmed his hands over my body, from foot to shoulder over and over. Every square inch of my skin became sensitive to every little stimulus. The light breeze from the window, the almost butterfly light feeling of his body hair before his hands skimmed, and his warm breath on my skin had my writhing. No wonder I was coming all the time. As I lay there, I thought I heard a faint whirring sound. Then I caught on that it was a treadmill, the one in his office. I decided to get up and take a shower. I searched for a towel and hopped in the shower. I let the warm water pulse on my head, trying to clear the last vestiges of erotic dreams from my mind. While under the spray I realized how close I was to falling in love with Jason. It has always been my biggest fear of falling in love with someone who wouldn't or couldn't love me back. And I think a straight man probably couldn't return my feelings. Oh he might be curious and want to sleep with me, but I doubt if it would go any further.
I turned off the water and grabbed the towel off the shower curtain rod. I was drying my body off when I heard the door open. I opened the curtain and was drying my hair when I saw Jason walk in. He stopped and just froze. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him lose his towel. I continued to dry my hair, knowing that what I looked like didn't matter to him. I turned around when done to hang up the towel on the towel bar and turned to say good morning. I was absolutely shocked with what I saw. Jason is a little taller than I am. He is definitely stronger and heavier. He was sweaty. He had a tan and his chest was covered in straight, dark hair. It was so thick, in about a four-inch swath from mid sternum down to his privates, that you couldn't see the skin under it. The hair slowly thinned out as it trailed up to his shoulders but didn't go over them, into the dip of his armpits and at the end of his abdominal muscles. In a word: gorgeous.
He also had one of the most impressive erections I have ever seen. It was thick and long and so hard that it stood up at a greater than forty-five degree angle. Then I looked in his eyes. He was staring at my body. Then he looked in my eyes, he looked confused. If this were a gay guy, I would be in his arms and soon both of us would be calling in sick and fucking the day away. This was different. I grabbed the towel back and wrapped it around myself and walked by him to my bedroom. I quickly got dressed and decided to make some breakfast for the two of us, hoping, praying that things wouldn't become awkward. Last night had been so pleasant.
Jason came into the kitchen just as the toast popped up. He was wearing slacks and a white shirt. He had a jacket in his arms and he was trying to tie his tie. I placed the toast on the table along with the large cheese omelet and bacon as well as the carafe of coffee. I walked up to him and brushed his hands away from the mess he was making of the tie. I pulled it apart and tied it for him, concentrating on the knot and the length of the ends. I didn't realize that Jason had stopped breathing. His shirt was wrinkled as if he had just pulled it out of the laundry; same with the pants. I finished and looked up at Jason with a smile. I froze. He looked at me and the look was hungry. It was also really confused. I swallowed hard then moved back, telling Jason to sit and eat. We did, in strained silence, both of us avoiding the others' eyes. He got up and said he would probably be late tonight and walked out. I think I finally took my first deep breath since I had finished with his tie.
I spent the day doing what I always do when I'm confused and working out a problem. I cleaned. I organized. I found a huge mound of clean laundry in the laundry room. I folded it all except for what needed to be hung. He wore white crew socks. He had several white t-shirts. He wore basically the same outfit all the time, a white dress shirt and tie with slacks of black, navy, tan, or slate gray. He also wore white knit cotton boxers. But he also had a large quantity of low-cut briefs. They were the simple three for $10 you can find at any department store. I really wish I could see him in them. He probably wore them for working out. With those low hanging, huge balls and elephant trunk cock, he would need that support. Okay, I need to stop this. I placed all the folded laundry on Jason's bed then went to find an iron and ironing board. Then I tackled every dress shirt he had and every pair of slacks. I even went into his closet and grabbed every tie he had. I pressed them all. It took three hours and my back was sore when I was done, but I wasn't thinking so much about Jason anymore. I put all the hangars up in his closet and then attacked his shoes with polish and rag until they sparkled. When that was done, I reorganized his cabinets, refolding sheets and towels so they fit better in the linen closet. Then I stripped the beds and changed the bedding. I dusted and vacuumed. I felt like a damn fool for being so wound up like a horny teenager. But I was. I really wanted something to happen between Detective Jason and myself.
**
I was driving home from work after a fruitless and frustrating day. I couldn't concentrate, which was just as well nothing came of all the countless interviews we did with Matthew's faculty colleagues and Zack's neighbors. I couldn't get it out of my head. The feel of his hands on my neck and chest while he was tying my tie had electrified me. I also couldn't get the image of his naked body in the shower out either. He had a nice wedge of curly, golden hair on his chest that ran from the hollow of his shoulders to mid sternum. Then he had a trail from around his navel down until it swirled and thickened around his cock. And that was another interesting thing. I have been naked with other men countless times. But that was the first time I noticed another guy's equipment. I found myself wondering what it would be like to touch and taste, what it would look like hard and then what it would feel like pressed against my belly as I thrust into him and what it would feel like hard and steely inside me. Then I had stood in front of him with one of the hardest, steeliest erections I have ever had.
I felt like a jerk. I was also so damn confused. This isn't me. I've slept with fifteen different women in my life. What the hell is this? Okay, so I haven't slept with anyone in the two years since my divorce. Okay, so I can't deny the undeniable connection I feel whenever I even think about Zack. But I'm not gay. I'm curious. I never gave it a thought before, but I can't deny that two nights of extremely hot dreams had me horny enough to try just about anything. But it wouldn't be fair to Zack. He could get hurt because I was only curious and didn't want anything more. Not that I wanted anything more. Not really. Not much.
I was still telling myself why this disturbing attraction wasn't what I wanted when I got home. I walked inside and smelled something heavenly. I stood in the kitchen and looked in the oven and the pots on the stove. There was a beef stew bubbling gently on the burner and fresh bread baking. The counters were clear and none of the preparation dishes were in the sink. I walked through the house, noticing a candle burning on the table in the living room. I went into the laundry room and saw the pile empty. I walked into my room to change and found a stack of folded laundry on the bed, much less than what I had washed. I opened the closets and found all my shirts and slacks hanging, pressed perfectly. Then I noticed the bedding was changed. Hell, I never even make my bed. I walked further down the hall, looking for Zack. I found him in his room at the desk, bent over his laptop, typing away. He had glasses on and his hair was mussed from where he had run his fingers through it. I felt something shift in my chest and I slowly began to realize that perhaps I did want more. For once when I came home, it actually felt just like that, a home.
"What have you been doing all day, Zack?"
I startled him. He threw down his glasses and smiled at me. Then he blushed. "I'm sorry. I needed something to do. I guess it got out of hand. Sorry."
"Don't apologize. I'm impressed."
"How about dinner?"
"Let me change first."
I turned and went down the hall. As I changed my clothes, I kept thinking about how much fun I've had the last couple of days. Then I realized that I've been having more fun than I do with almost anyone else, even Martin who I think of as a brother. Then I thought about dinner and what would happen after. Nothing! I won't let it. But it's going to be a long night.
**
We ate a strained dinner. Conversation was forced and uncomfortable. I wanted to reach out and smooth the frown line between his eyebrows. The tension was strong. We hadn't had this before. I knew what it was but he was going to have to make the first move. To be truthful, I was tired of fighting it. Three long nights of erotic dreams that only partially gave me the release I craved wasn't going to cut it. It had been over eighteen months since Matthew left me. I had stayed alone that whole time. I didn't realize until now how ready I was to move on. Maybe it took his death to allow me to move forward. But it probably had more to do with Jason. He was beautiful. And thanks to the shower scene, I knew he was incredibly well made.
Dinner was soon over. We had simply stopped trying to talk and just let the silence sit. It wasn't uncomfortable. At this moment I realized that for the rest of my life I could look across a table at him and be content. I could sit and listen about his day and know he would listen just as interestedly at mine. I'm afraid I went ahead and fell in love with him anyway. The moment made me light headed. I stood and cleared away the dishes. He offered to help and I declined. He went into his room and I heard him walk down the hall to his office. He was going to work out. I finished up with the kitchen then walked down to my room and sat at my laptop again. I half worked and half waited to see if he would come to me.
I heard the clinking of the weights for a bit then I heard the whirring of the treadmill. He jogged on that thing for a good half hour. Then I heard it stop. I gave up any pretense of working. I held my breath as I heard his footsteps moving down the hall. He walked past my closed door and moved into his own room, and then I heard him walk into the bathroom and the shower start. I started breathing again. I typed a few more lines of code into the program I was working on. Then I heard the shower stop. A few minutes later, he appeared at my door wearing a towel slung low on his hips. I looked up at him.
"What do you need, Jason?"
"I need... I want... I don't know."
"Tell me. What do you want?"
"This is crazy. I shouldn't be here."
"What do you want?"
"Send me away Zack."
"What do you want?"
"Zack..."
"What do you want?"
He swallowed hard. "I want you to suck my dick."
I stood and walked towards him. He had beads of water on his shoulders. The hair on his chest was straight and thick and still had a few water droplets in it. I don't think I have ever been more aroused, or more nervous. I took his hand and led him towards the bed. I pushed him back when his knees hit the bed and he landed on the mattress. I pulled the towel away from him. He was already hard. I knelt at the edge of the bed and trailed my hands along his thighs. All the soft hair on his legs and warm skin made me shudder. I kissed his inner thigh about halfway up. Then I trailed my tongue along the skin, feeling the hair pull slightly. I moved higher and higher, nipping and kissing his skin. I moved up until my nose nestled against his scrotum. Then I nipped at the skin below his testicles. Jason moaned at the contact. I nuzzled his balls and kissed the sensitive skin. Then I moved up his shaft with my tongue, twirling and lapping with equal finesse. Before I took him in my mouth, I nipped at the flared ridge, running my tongue around it. And then I took the head into my mouth, wringing it with my tongue, swirling it around and around the flare of the salty, leaking tip. Each lap had him groaning, each bob of my mouth had him moan. Then I moved down and took him entirely down to my throat. Each deep push had him raising his shoulders off the bed and crying out. I looked up at him while moving on him, wringing pleasure from him. A rosy flush has spread across his chest and cheeks. His stomach muscles had tightened and each swirl of pleasure had him lifting and arching off the bed. I moved on him for many minutes, feeling him tense and stiffen further in my mouth. Then he almost sat completely up and cried out while spurting into my mouth. Each spasm of his release had him twitching hard against my tongue, as I tasted his semen. He was thick and sweet and I never wanted it to end. But all good things do. He collapsed back on the mattress with a satisfied sigh, spent and limp. I cleaned him up a bit then let him fall from my mouth against his hip.
I had unzipped and was fisting my cock. I was close, but I slowed down, remembering every moment of having him in my mouth. Then I felt Jason's hands on my arms. He was pulling me up. He pushed me down on the mattress, pulling off my shirt as he went. Then he unbuckled my belt and pushed my pants and underwear off. He grabbed my socks at the last minute so I lay in front of him naked. I was so hard and I started to ache because he had pulled my hand away from my cock. He was lying on his side, and he was looking at my erection. He seemed to hover over me, trying to decide what to do. Then he slowly moved down and licked at me tentatively. I almost came. Then he continued to lick at my head. He lapped it like an ice cream cone. It was heaven, but it wasn't enough. I wanted to grab his head and push him down. I wanted to yell and let him know that it wasn't some clit he needed to lap at. I wanted him to take me in his mouth and help me trip. Instead he kept building me up, aggravating an already aroused situation. Then the most wonderful thing happened: he took me in his mouth. He moved up and down, tentatively and slowly. I built; I twitched. I felt my whole body tighten. I kept thrashing my legs; I gripped the sheets below me and tried to hang on. Then the build up was too much and I felt the end start. I came hard, spurting deeply down his throat. He choked and pulled away. I kept spurting, it hit my belly and I kept crying out. When the last of my release left me, I completely relaxed and fell back on the sheets and grinned.
"What is that look for?"
"I'm just amazed."
"About what?"
"I never thought you would reciprocate."
"I have to admit I was curious."
"And what did you think?"
"Not bad." Then we both started laughing. Jason looked in my eyes and the smile faded. I really wanted him to kiss me. But it didn't happen.
"Look, Zack. I know I'm asking a lot. But, do you think maybe we could..."
"You want inside, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Okay"
I reached out and stroked Jason until he was standing hard. Then I kneeled on all fours, and Jason stood behind me. His hands gripped my hips and it was a tender gesture. He didn't drive right in, but moved slowly, rubbing himself back and forth along my hole. He was leaking against me. His thumbs rubbed back and forth against my ass as he pushed forward. It was a tight fit; it had been a long time for me. But he was slow and gentle. He kept moving forward in slight pulses, rocking into me infinitely slowly. Then he was seated in me and I felt myself swell. He rocked out then pushed back and I exploded. My arms collapsed under me and I cried out. I was still dribbling in tired spasms when Jason pulled out and flipped me onto my back. He knelt between my legs and braced himself on his left arm, cupped below my shoulder. He used his free hand to guide himself back to me. When he was inside me completely, he stayed in place, lowering his chest to rest lightly on mine. He moved his hand up to stroke my chest.
"You're trembling, Jason."
He smiled at me and cupped my face. "So are you."
Then he started to move. I felt every steely, veined inch of his shaft as it brushed back and forth across my ring. His satiny tip kept bumping into my prostate. I was really hard still. I normally can only manage to cum once or twice, but at this rate, it could be all night. I watched everything he was feeling mirrored on his face, in his eyes. They were dilated and glassy. His breath got short and his nipples brushed against mine as he continued his silky glide. I could tell he was close. I felt the muscles on his belly tighten. His motions became less smooth and more forceful. His pleasured gasps became low moans. God I loved him. I felt the end approaching. His moans became heated growls and animalistic cries. I felt him thicken, stretching me tighter. Then he hit my prostate ten times in rapid, hard thrusts making me clench and spurt against his hairy belly. Just as I felt myself come down, relax from the waves crashing through me, Jason erupted, crying out his pleasure and driving into me hard. After I felt his cock twitch one last time, he collapsed against me, burying his nose in the hollow between my neck and shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him, stroking his back lightly. We fell asleep like that.
I awoke some time later to find Jason rolling off of me. He stood up and I braced my arms up and was about to ask what was going on. He put his hand over my mouth and whispered that he heard something. He snuck down the hall to his room. I got out of bed and pulled on some jeans and my t-shirt. I was getting ready to follow him into the dark hall when I was grabbed from behind.
"I think you should stay here."
I turned to see a man I had never seen before. He was younger and his clothes looked a bit rumpled, as if he hadn't changed in awhile. He also looked absolutely insane. A fact proven by the long, mean knife he held in one hand and the gun in the other. "Who are you?"
"Sit on the bed and shut up. We will wait here for the slut cop."
I sat and prayed that Jason would stay away or else find out what was going on. But he had me sitting in full view of the door and the mystery man hid in the shadows. Jason came back into the hall. He had pulled on his jeans and had his gun. I tried to make him stay away. I willed that he would get the panic in my eyes and stay. But he didn't. He headed straight towards me.
"Zack. Are you okay? What's wrong?"
He said it as he came in the room and was hit in the back of the head by the mystery man. He slumped to the floor. He was dazed, but he didn't go out. Then he tackled the guy around the legs. He went down but not before slashing Jason's arm. Blood welled out and he dropped his gun. I picked it up, but the assailant knocked it out of my hand. Then he backhanded me. He turned and raised his gun to shoot Jason. I didn't think; I just leapt. I heard an explosion just an instant before my back felt like it was on fire. I collapsed onto Jason. Just then the lights in the room came on and two uniformed officers broke in the room and shot the mystery man in the arm. I rolled over so my head was in Jason's lap. I was only vaguely aware of the police arresting the man. Jason demanded an ambulance before cupping my face. He kept chanting my name. I pulled his head closer. I knew I was blacking out. I whispered the truth to him, in case I would never have the chance again. "I love you."
**
Martin arrived just as I got out of the exam room. They stitched up my arm and he rode with me up to the surgery wing, waiting for word. Martin gave me a run down on the asshole shooter. Apparently, he was the son of the dean at the college where Matthew taught. He seduced Matthew and blackmailed him to keep the affair going. He then talked him into dumping Zack and moving in with him. When Matthew made noise about leaving and going back to Zack, he came up with the bomb. Matthew told him he was leaving and in a rage, stabbed him. He left with the bomb and planted it in Zack's car. When he didn't die, he followed me to my house after we interviewed him and waited for us to be asleep.
Martin was a pal; he brought me a shirt and waited while I paced in the waiting room. He didn't ask, he didn't question: he was just my good friend. All the while I paced, I kept thinking of Zack's last words: "I love you." It kept going through my head. I kept remembering the wonderful evening we shared. I have never known such incredible connection before. I had only meant to say goodnight. I didn't mean to ask him to suck me off. I certainly didn't plan to return the favor. But at that moment, still shaking from the most amazing orgasm of my life, it just felt right to take him in my mouth. I had just planned to fuck him from behind. If I didn't see his face, I wouldn't be connected. But feeling him cum around me, I wanted to see him. That moment of connection, watching his face as I pushed into him was the best moment of my life. The truth is, in just a couple of days, what he said was true. I loved him. I was confused, I was scared, but I was also guilty. I didn't save him; he saved me. If he had shot me instead of Zack, I would be dead now. To protect and to serve is any cop's motto. Boy I sure failed there.
The surgeon came out and told us that he would stay in ICU for a few days, but should recover. I actually broke down right there. Martin got a hold of me and took me someplace private. He didn't ask, which I am grateful for. I pulled rank once I calmed down and sat down in his room. I got up to get a cup of coffee or answer nature's call. But I didn't leave him. Not for almost forty-eight hours. Then he opened his eyes. At that moment I was overwhelmed, so grateful he was awake. I was also never more ashamed. Ashamed of the way I had treated him and ashamed at how I had failed him. His eyes were open for just a minute, but he smiled at me. Then he drifted off to sleep. I left the hospital, looking for answers to the bombing, the murder, and everything else. Call me a coward, but I left.
**
I awoke in the hospital. I was expecting to see Jason. I had opened my eyes once and saw him. He looked tired. But I have never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life. But he wasn't in my room. I drifted in and out for a few hours. I awoke late in the afternoon to see Martin sitting by my bed. He told me everything. Who the man was, what he was doing, and why he tried so hard to kill me. It all made sense. It wouldn't have changed anything, but it was good to know why Matthew left. The last piece of my old life fell into place and I was ready to move on. I know I probably shocked him, but what I told Jason was the truth. I loved him.
Over the next couple of days, Martin came to see me often. It's funny, but we actually became rather good friends. But Jason wasn't there. Slowly I came to realize that all my worst fears were true. Jason could be curious, but not love me. He didn't stop by once. Eight days after I entered the hospital, they were ready to send me home. Martin actually came by and drove me. When I got home, Martin went to the trunk and got out my suitcase and laptop from Jason's house. I guess that answered that. I didn't realize how transparent my facial expression was until Martin cupped my shoulder after setting my bags down. He helped me get settled, lying down on my bed. He set the phone near and was getting ready to leave.
"I promised myself I wouldn't ask, Zack. But I can't seem to help myself."
"You want to know if Jason and I..."
"Yeah. I guess I do."
"Yes. The night of the shooting."
"I see."
"You disappointed? Upset?"
"You don't understand. I saw the way you looked at him when we showed up at your door. The thing is, he was just as sunk as you were. Reminds me of when my wife and I met."
I actually smiled. "What happened?"
"I was this anal, stuffy kid. I couldn't relax if you gave me ten Valium. I would enter a room and immediately rearrange the shelves. She just looked at me and me her. She understood me. She took my neuroses and loved me for them. We got married three days after we met. Just one look, that's all it takes."
I felt tears well in my eyes. He understood. Even though it was one sided, Martin understood. "I'm glad it worked out for you, Martin."
"Don't be so sure it won't for you. He's dealing with a little guilt right now."
"Why?"
"Now you would have to understand alpha cops. The psychology is macho and boring. He feels like he let you down. Like he couldn't protect you. He just needs time."
"There are a few more obstacles Martin."
"Don't doubt. Call me if you need anything."
With that he was gone. I rested the rest of the day. Then I took a shower and started working. I had eight days to catch up on. Work actually helped. I got through a whole pile of it. I did so much that I completed three projects two weeks early. It helped. All right, it didn't help, but it kept me from losing my mind. I had been out of the hospital for a week and he still hadn't even called. I got angry, really angry and mean. I cursed him six ways until Sunday. But it didn't help. I missed him. I would lie awake at night, hard with wanting him, dreaming about him when I could sleep. I kept myself from asking Martin about him when he would come by. But I still loved him.
After two weeks, I started to go back to work. One day when I got home, I spotted a familiar car in my driveway. Jason. I walked up to my door and he opened it and pulled me inside.
**
Oh God, I had missed him. I had listened daily to Martin's lectures. But it wasn't until I was sitting at home last night and I found myself chopping vegetables for a new recipe I found in a cookbook and how much I wanted Zack to watch and joke with me that I knew that I had to be with him. Nothing else mattered: not my failure, not my job, not the whole gay-straight thing, nothing.
I pulled him inside, hungry for the sight of him. I looked in his eyes and just melted. I loved him, that simple. He was smiling at me. I saw the love in his eyes and I knew how stupid I had been by staying away. Then he masked his emotions and I knew I had hurt him, deeply.
"Why are you here Jason?"
"I've missed you. God, I have. I want to fuck you so bad."
I watched as hurt clouded his eyes. Then he blinked it away and nodded. He held out his hand to me. Oh no, he thought I was just here for sex. And he loved me enough to swallow what he needed and give me what I asked for. If I hadn't loved him before, I would have fallen right then. I took his hand and he led me to his bedroom. He turned to unbutton my shirt and I took his hands. I pulled him close. I cupped both of his cheeks with my hands and ran my thumbs under his eyes. Then I lowered my lips to his and brushed them over his; just a simple kiss. Then I deepened the contact, open lips, closed mouth. Then I tentatively touched my tongue to his lip. I traced his lips with my tongue. Then I moved forward and completely claimed his mouth, brushing his tongue over and over with mine. It was one of the simplest but also the most erotic kiss of my life. I was so hard and I pulled his hips against mine, grinding myself into him. He was hard too and I felt him duel with me. Jeans and underwear separated us, confined us, but we were connecting. I pulled away from his mouth and pulled at his clothing until he stood before me naked. Then I dropped my clothes and stood before him hard and ready. But somehow the hurt hadn't quite left his eyes. I would give anything to get it to go away. And I knew just what to give.
I pushed Zack down on the bed and followed him. My chest pressed against his and our cocks dueled. Then I flipped us over so he rested on top of me. I started kissing him again. It was a strange turn of events, but I found my home. I was more satisfied with one kiss than I had been over the past four years with and without my wife. Maybe I wanted this all along, maybe I was gay from the beginning, but I don't think so. I think I just wanted Zack more than I wanted to spend my life with anyone else. I pulled away from the kiss and cupped his face again.
"I want you to fuck me. I want you inside me."
"You don't have to Jason. Really."
"Yes I do. I want you to. Please."
He nodded then got up and opened his drawer by the bed. He grabbed a bottle of something and told me that it would be necessary. Then he flipped me over on my stomach. He pulled me up on my hands and knees then started caressing my ass. I felt him kiss each cheek then lick along my crack. When he hit my hole I almost collapsed. I reached down to grab my cock. But he took my hands in one of his and kept me away from my dick. Then he started lapping away at me. I felt him lick and suck and nibble at my ring. I was in agony; the pleasure was too great. I kept squirming. I was biting the pillow below me. I kept feeling myself loosen. Each time I opened a bit more, he moved in deeper. My thighs were trembling and I collapsed against the bed. I was so hard and just wanted to hump against the mattress, just to relieve the pressure. But he pushed me down and kept me still. I was writhing on the bed. I have never felt anything so incredible. I was begging and pleading for Zack to end it. I was on edge and needed to trip.
Zack flipped me over. He grabbed the bottle and squeezed some of the liquid on his fingers. Then he applied them to me and rubbed around my sensitized hole. Then I felt him enter me. I squirmed at the blunt entry, but it didn't hurt. Then he coated his cock until it was dripping with lube before lowering between my legs. He lowered to my chest and guided his dripping tool to my hole. He kissed me lightly before pushing forward. He had worked me well, but this was brand new territory for me. I winced and then cried out as the head breached me.
"It's okay baby. I know. It'll be better in a minute."
He kissed me deeper and then rested his chest completely on me and grabbed my cock. He started stroking me fast, until I was hard again. I didn't realize it at first, but he was pushing forward as he stroked me. When he was seated, he let go of my mouth. He flexed his cock inside me and brushed something deeply inside. I cried out and squeezed him hard. He shuddered then started thrusting into me. I felt him move, accepting him. I was in awe at the new sensations. I had never known such fullness. He kept moving inside me, trying to remain gentle, but he was losing the battle. I decided then and there that it didn't matter how gentle he was with me; I would take it. I kissed him hard and told him not to hold back. It was all it took and he gripped my hips hard and started pounding into me. It was even better than before. He kept pushing into me, probably my prostate. But it was too much. I exploded against his belly. When he felt me squeeze him in release, he shuddered but somehow kept from tripping. He started pounding into me harder and faster. The hair on his belly, that wonderful silky trail was grazing against the head of my still hard cock. His movement forced my cock to be wedged between our bellies. My coarser hair was sending needles of pleasure through my penis while his soft ones sent a gentle caress. I was tripping again. It was less than two minutes later and I was shooting again, this time taking Zack with me.
When his spasms stopped, he collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him, cradling his head to my chest and savored being close to him. Zack didn't know it yet, but he was moving in with me. We were going to share my house and sleep in each other's arms each night. I loved him and he was going to stay with me. It wasn't going to be easy, but we would work on it. That's all that matters. When he had recovered a little, he nuzzled my chest with his nose.
"Zack?"
"Yes Jason?"
"I love you."
That's all that really needed to be said.